


Dream Made Flesh

by Faylette



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 07:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3166703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faylette/pseuds/Faylette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas and Lavellan have been taking their nightly trysts to the Fade, with great success, until their shared dream unintentionally slips back into the waking world. Neither quite cares to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream Made Flesh

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this prompt: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/11864.html?thread=46472024#t46472024

He holds her close to his chest, his fingers in her unbraided hair, her arm laid across his body. Her ear is pressed to his heart, hearing its rhythmic beating. Layers of thick blankets shield their lightly-clothed bodies from the chill of Skyhold’s night.

“Where to tonight?” Solas’ voice rings into Ellana’s uncovered ear. She pauses for thought, and he fills the silence. “White sands? Flowered meadows? Beneath the canopies of many-seasoned trees?”

He entices her with his canvases, his memories of the Fade, the many landscapes that his mind has tread, the many images that he can bring her to and lay her down.

“Anywhere is perfect,” she tells him, looking up into his eyes. The corners of his lips perk up as she moves in to kiss her, but is met instead with her fingertips. “But not here.”

It was hard enough to sway the masses to the Inquisition’s cause with her short stature and pointed ears and marked face and rumours floating about of her apostate lover. Ellana had no intent of fueling anyone’s fire with a waxing belly. It was fortunate that her lover had such creative ways to deceive risk. As they fulfilled their corporeal desires in far-off places and ancient locales and worlds that had never existed outside of the Fade, in reality, they merely slept in a gentle, chaste embrace.

“Would a kiss tempt you so?” Solas asks, tempted. “Even in such a mundane place?”

“I think it’s best not to find out.”

He sighs and yields, gently kissing her brow and drawing her tight into his embrace. “Sweet dreams, my heart.”

 

—

 

Ellana finds herself in the shade of a towering willow, with no recollection of how she arrived here. She steps forward into the sunlight, feels the warm earth and grass beneath her bare feet, feels the caress of the breeze in her unbound hair. She gazes off into the distance, sees a treeline that spans the length of her vision and above it a cloud-dappled sky in the full vividness of midday. She breathes in, still lost.

“I hope it’s to your liking.”

Hands from behind her now rest on her shoulders. She feels a pair of lips brush against the side of her neck, and the subtle haze of the Fade on her skin. She grins in realization.

“It’s like a dream come true.”

She spins around, their eyes meeting for a transitory moment before they engulf themselves in each other’s kisses. The passion that had to be dimmed into sleepfulness sparks into its voracious existence once again, not to be denied this time. Solas parts her lips with his tongue and presses her body close against his, reveling in her heat, letting his hands wander down and away from the small of her back. The little clothing they wore to bed, with no purpose to serve here, is quickly discarded, and their bodies likewise sink down into the grass, Solas atop his lover. With one hand supporting him above Ellana, he slowly slides his other hand across her bare skin, from the ridges of her collarbone, along the gentle curves of her breast and her hip, and just brushing over to the inside of her thigh, teasing her, and teasing himself more.

“Such suspense,” she says, her voice equal parts playful and restless.

“And such impatience,” he responds with a hushed laugh, circling his thumb on the soft warmth of her thigh.

He kisses her deeply, once, and then again, before using his mouth to follow the same trail set by his fingers, marking each inch with licks and kisses. He pulls Ellana’s slender legs over his shoulders, lifting her hips off of the ground, and buries his face between those legs. She bites her lip as his mouth grazes haphazardly against her thighs, meeting and adding to the wetness between them, running the length of his tongue against her slit. He laps at her eagerly, relentlessly, spurred on by each breathy moan and buck of her hips. Her hand presses down on the crown of Solas’ head, a wordless command:

Don’t you dare stop now.

It is understood.

She feels it in her spine, in her skin, at her core, as her body arches and shakes into climax. Her chest heaves as she huffs air out with Elven curses, dwindling into softer pants, and then a longing for more.

He backs away slightly, his lover’s knees still resting on his shoulders, and smirks, lips glistening. “It is fortunate that you can disturb no sleep in this place.”

She lazily strikes the side of Solas’ head with her calf. He accepts his chastisement willingly, nuzzling into the leg that struck him as his cock rests against her, outside of her.

“Ar nuvenin ma.” I want you. “Sahlin,” she demands. Now. Her face burns red, but her words lack all timidness.

And how can he resist any longer? “Ma nuvenin, vhenan.”

Ellana’s legs twinge as they’re pressed against her chest, her feet dangling overhead. She has no time to protest, nor much desire to, as he slides wholly inside her. Her ravenous eyes take in every sight before her — his hungry gaze, the taut sinews of his chest, the hand grasping her leg, the hips thrusting into hers, her body exposed to his sight, her breasts moving in time with him. She crosses eyes with him, a sight powerful enough to draw him away from his view of her, making him lean forward and overwhelm her with kisses, squeezing her legs between his body and hers. She gasps and moans into his mouth while her legs burn and her cunt grips him against that one sweet spot, again and again, and she grips the sheets beneath her as—

“Wait, wait,” Ellana says, muffled by kisses, squirming to push him away. His confusion dissipates with a single glance at his surroundings: the mundane world of the waking, the Inquisitor’s quarters in Skyhold. They look back at each other — Ellana with her nightclothes hitched up to her navel, legs still flung over his shoulders, Solas with his pants pulled down to his knees, still inside her.

Their eyes stay locked together, and there is a moment of stillness as they see each other’s reddened faces, smell the raw scent of sweat and sex, feel each other’s flesh, in the flesh. There is still a heady haziness, even outside of the Fade. They do not speak a word, and it is understood.

In an instant, the stillness ends, and their two bodies tumble among the blankets of Ellana’s bed, removing the clothes that they had never actually taken off, feeling the other’s bare skin in ways they never had, not in this place. Ellana takes advantage of the chaos to pin Solas beneath her, without objection, and effortlessly slips him back into her. With hands pressed into his chest, her hips jerk, grinding against his pelvis, taking from him a pleasure that makes her skin tingle and her mouth spill out sounds sweet to Solas’ ears. He grips her rocking hips with both hands, all but clawing into the flesh of her ass. He struggles to endure, to let her take every ounce of pleasure she desires, but the tension welling up inside of him is inebriating, and the most wonderful kind of unbearable.

She sees his brow furrow and his teeth scrape against his lip as she feels him twitch from within her, once strongly, and again, diminishing along with his throaty groans. She tries to keep her smugness to herself, but can’t help but grin as she spirals her hips around one last time, and then dismounts and lounges beside him. Her thighs, soaked and sticky as she presses them together, puts a lump in her throat to swallow before she can speak.

“I think this might have been a bad decision.”

“Decisions that do not come from the head often are,” Solas replies, drained. Knowing that she needs more, he shrugs off his weariness and takes her into his arms, her disheveled locks splayed against his chest. “Ar lath ma vhenan. I am sorry that my recklessness has caused you unease.”

Ellana looks up at his face and shakes her head. “I did not stop either.”

He tips his head in weak assent, but continues. “Whatever the case, we agreed to restrict these trysts to the Fade. It was my responsibility to keep us there, and I failed to perform my duty adequately.”

A hushed moment passes by, and then the edges of Ellana’s mouth crook up into a smile she tries and fails to suppress. Solas raises an eyebrow, beseeching an explanation.

“I think you performed more than adequately.”

After regaining his composure, he chuckles under his breath and calls her something in Elvish perhaps best translated as “saucy minx,” in a most loving voice. She accepts it as a compliment. The oppressive tension that stifled the air a moment ago all but dissipates.

“Let’s not make this exhilarating mistake again, hm?” says Ellana.

“Agreed.”

She absentmindedly drums her fingers on his stomach.

“What was it you suggested earlier, ‘Beneath the canopies of…?’”

“Of many-seasoned trees?” he finishes her thought. “I’ll meet you there, vhenan.”

 

 


End file.
